Archive for the ‘Game’ Category

Your Daily Asshole Game


It’s funny cuz it’s true.

This is one of those memes that is easily transferable to real life application. Say a sassy girl gives you lip about only dating rock stars (or tall men, or whatever). You shoot back, “ya well I prefer girls who are pretty”. She’ll fume, but she won’t feel indifferent towards you, and that’s a springboard to romance, gentlemen!

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Distinguished Gentleman Game

Let’s say you’re a distinguished gentleman. You’ve reached middle life with a string of accomplishments to your name buttressing an unshakeable self-confidence. You handle your social affairs with a relaxed poise. That crucial ZFG attitude comes to you naturally now, a product of experience and genuine unconcern for the opinions of others on the subject of your worth as a man. How would your relations with women change? A reader writes,

There is a guy on FB who is in his 50s.  He’s in a punk band from back in the day, so he has fans and groupies.  He has a cute but not beautiful girlfriend with a nice body maybe half his age.  He refers to her as “my current girlfriend” or “the current girlfriend.”  He does it offhandedly like it is totally normal.  Nice.

“The current girlfriend”. That’s a fine dread neg right there. Women love a man who challenges their complacency and impels them to battle day and night, year upon year, to earn his devotion.

The answer to the question “How would a distinguished gentleman’s Game change?” is this: It wouldn’t. Game is applied charisma, and male charisma never goes out of style.

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Pencil Sketch Man

Has Skittles Man met his aloof and indifferent match in the form of Pencil Sketch Man, or is this just a try-hard underemployed hipster beta male placating his demanding girlfriend on the cheap?


My favorite comment was from someone who zoomed in on the boyfriend’s self-portrait and wrote “when u nut but she keep suckin”.

My initial reaction is ALPHA. Pencil sketches are part of a school of seduction that emphasizes the value of small, cheap, unique, sentimentally romantic gifts to girls over large, expensive, hackneyed, commercially romantic gifts. But is Pencil Sketch Man as ZFG towards his beloved as Skittles Man was to his lovely? (Recall that Skittles Man gave his girlfriend a bag of Skittles for her birthday, and she loved him so much for it she put finger to keyboard and revealed to the world that more than one woman loved her Skittles Man.)

I’d normally hesitate to put someone like Pencil Sketch(y) Man in the same tingle-manufacturing league as Skittles Man — after all, it requires more effort to sketch even a creepy child-like facsimile of your girlfriend than it does to buy her a bag of candy — until I read this from the girlfriend’s sister:

“i think she was super cool about it which makes it all the more puzzling.”

Puzzling….for her. Not at all puzzling to regular guests of the Chateau.

VERDICT: Gina tingles activated.


tteclod adds,

If the sketch is remotely accurate, then I don’t know why he invested the effort.

This would be a strong case for demoting Pencil Sketch Man from the Skittles Hall of Game.

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Sincerity is over-employed by groveling betas and under-utilized by arrogant cads. Sincerity is a potent seduction device, but only when used sparingly, and at unexpected moments.

Vulnerability Game (which is really a Game subroutine that no good badboy should leave the masturbatorium without) is a specialized application of Sincerity Game. Whatever your intention, a girl will perceive your expression of manly vulnerability as coming from a place of uncompromised sincerity, (as long as you aren’t smirking the whole way through).

Dropping a hot wet load of sincerity on a girl’s awestruck physiognomy after hours playfully teasing her, taunting her, and transgressing her expectations of gentlemanly behavior is the seduction equivalent of Trump’s “only Rosie O’Donnell” massive crushing of an SJW-gynecracy shit test.

I long ago learned that one of the best moments to downshift into sincerity is when the girl is insistent about knowing your sexual success rate with women (and, related, your plans for her). For instance,

GIRL: “Oh, with that smirk, I bet you were a hit with the ladies, hmm?”

HADES’ HERALD: “I don’t like to brag.”

The “I don’t like to brag” quip is dynamite with the right fuse. Don’t cripple the delivery with a tension-relieving cocky smile. Say it deadpan, like you really hate bragging about yourself. The power of the line is contained within the implied admission that you clean up with women, and contained without by the aesthetics of asserting, with genuine feeling, that you value discretion over braggadocio.

PS A Reddit user believes he has uncovered evidence that Angela Merkel is intentionally allowing ISIS to operate in the EU.

PPS Another Sincerity Game gem: If a girl tells you she’s a journalist, ask with all sincerity, “Is that just a gig until you find something better?” Works well on any gogrrl who believes her chosen career defines her as a woman.

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A quick story about the power of the uninhibited approach. This one time (in cad camp), a girl crossing my path on the sidewalk strongly resembled a girl I was dating, at least in profile and from the back. So much so that I thought she was my girl, and I hurried forward to catch up with her and deliver a warm greeting. She hadn’t seen me when I trotted into her view and said “Hey!” inflected with an intimate, and confident, familiarity.

From her vantage, this was a cold pickup attempt. From my vantage, I thought I was saying a surprise hello to a girl I was banging. For a flickering second, we eyed each other with disbelief — her trying to figure out why I introduced myself, and me suddenly realizing she wasn’t the girl I was dating at the time.

Then an odd turn occurred in the plot line. Instead of furrowing her brow with annoyance at the bother, or promptly dismissing my accidental approach, she parried my ‘hey!’ with an equally friendly and intimate ‘oh, hi!’, and stood still, planted to the sidewalk in front of me, looking like she was expecting more consent-defying magic to spring from my prolix tongue.

This girl was in it to see if I would win it. My instinct switched from ‘I should tell this girl I thought she was someone else’ to ‘Wait a sec….she thinks I’m hitting on her…and she’s open to it!’. Now aroused by the opportunity before me of fresh cleft, I hesitated to exit our fortuitous rendezvous with a curt explanation for my impudence. During what must have been just a couple seconds but felt like an eternity, I considered my next course of action….I could easily springboard from my accidental hello to deliberate pickup banter….but at the last decided to take the noble — or less adventuresome — route and excused myself on the wispy adieu of mistaken identity.

The scene reminded me of a truth about women and pickup that guests of the Chateau should know by heart. For all the talk of tactics and logistics and hurdling last minute resistance, indubitably all of it a valuable store of knowledge to the aspiring womanizer, one rule governs them all: the man who says something will always get further with women than the man who says nothing.

The world of women will only open to men brave enough to trek it. If you never invade a woman’s safe space, she’ll never post hoc rationalize your invasion as her invitation. Women’s safe spaces are essentially self-fulfilling until a man with a set of steel ones decides they aren’t.

This girl I thought was someone else had no idea I greeted her under false assumptions, yet the confident familiarity with which I made my existence known to her lithesome universe sparked something primal in her: a welling up of ancient desire that the expectations of modern society successfully suppresses most of the time. I’m sure vanishingly few men have ever cold cocka-ed her like that on the sidewalk. When one man did, it stirred a longing every woman shares to be the lust object of a man who takes what he wants. My accidental entitlement reminded me that deliberate entitlement remains the essential provocation of women’s romantic curiosity.

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Rate His Game

A reader who spent some time acquainting himself with the Chateau teachings applied what he learned to the field, with good results. (incoming *preen*)

I’m somewhere in the reforming beta stage right now. Working on refining and developing myself. I was reading the Chateau for half the day today and smelled a perfect opportunity on Bumble to straight up rip some lines from here.

She opened with asking me about Incubus (great band), gave her a real answer. Then she followed up with another question and I smelled blood in the water…

Number is in her next message. That worked way too fucking easy. Why is this shit so difficult for me to pull off on my own?

He included a screenshot of his text Game, which I ask the readers to rate, so that this man can refine his Game as needed and others can learn about the Game principles which underlie the rhetorical vaggle-dazzle.


My first take: This is tight Game. He avoids all the beta traps and stays on the offensive (in both meanings of the word). I especially liked that he assumed the sale right at the outset. And then he nuked her “I don’t know enough about you…” shit test from orbit, by basically agreeing and amplifying her phony reticence. After those two stellar exhibitions of Game, her number was a foregone conclusion.

Did I miss anything? Now it’s your turn to rate his Game and, if you found it wanting, suggest improvements.

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I’ve seen it unfold over the years winding my way through the dating trenches, and the personal observations of other men, plus the occasional sociological study, provide mounting (heh) evidence for what I’ve noticed: that the configuration of the 2016 America sexual market has shifted to extreme female selectivity. It’s why women feel like they can be all the fat fugly tatted up slutted out femcunt they can be without negative repercussion.

(Women’s feelings about their sexual market options are, of course, often at odds with their sexual market realities, but that’s a topic for another post.)

The question naturally arises: how should a man position himself to best neutralize the putative advantage that would seem to accrue to energetically selective women?

The answer is clear to Chateau VIP guests, but will seem to normies like a paradox.

A man should act like he’s selective and women are competing for the pleasure of his company.

This is a truism regardless of the selectivity of women, but it’s even more relevant when women act like they can do no wrong and a TripleA rated Alpha will still land in their sexpot-LARPing laps.

In a culture of extreme female mate market selectivity, the best defense a man can have is Game, i.e., the art of flipping the script. When women are extremely selective, beta males (most men) tend to respond by sucking up to them. The man who acts like he’s selective will intrigue women, and the intensity of this female intrigue is directly proportional to female selectivity. The more demanding the woman, the more aroused she will be by the man who not only refuses to entertain her demands but makes his own demands upon her.

The man who carries himself like he’s God’s gift to women in an age when women believe the opposite dynamic is standard operating procedure will shine like a diamond amid the mass of mediocre males striving way too hard to capture women’s interest. This means, once you clear the debris from your defeatist, rationalizing beta ego, that a sexual market of extreme female selectivity (EFS) is in reality a POON PORNUCOPIA for men with Game.

Remember the old CH maxim: CONTRAST IS KING

Here’s what an alpha man living in an EFS environment sounds like when he understands women and has made his decision for the God of Biomechanics:


You laugh, but I guarantee Tom gets more pussy, and higher quality pussy, with this profile than your average beta male straining to showcase his career accomplishments, male feminist bona fides, and sky diving adventure over the Steppe of Pussboy Servility.

Amoral of the story: Female selectivity is just a green light for male selectivity.

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